Money was something most queer. In the Empire, silver had become the standard for coinage, in no small part because Lord Bavaria sold much to the Austrians for silver from the mines in Tirol, and the Duke of Bohemia had productive silver mines of his own. While they could not mint quite as freely after the reforms, these two had been responsible for most of the silver circulating inside the empire before.

What she found queer about this was that, to those commoners who sought to be paid in it, silver had no value. It could not be eaten, nor made into tools nor weapons, nor were they craftsmen who made it into jewellery.

Or rather, the commoners knew this well. It was not the natural state of things to use coins.

However, it could hardly be said that, even with the absence of coins, what the rural commoners naturally did fell under bartering. These small villages instead formed a kind of sprawling family where there was a common kindness between themselves and their surroundings. If someone needed grain or firewood to get through the winter, it was natural to share, that one could never know when they may depend upon such kindness in the future. Likewise, even without calculating, there was certainly a sense of value for things, that one may gift a shepherd this much grain now with the understanding of receiving that much wool later on.

That had been the hypothesis Viscount Erberg notionally worked from. Barter, to him, was the response to merchants and other strangers beyond this trusted family. Of course, it went the other way as well—a foreign merchant could hardly force a village to repay any debts.

Coins, then, were an extension of bartering. Few seemed to think of it that way, yet the necessity of the minting reforms spoke to how coins were a good like any other. While every coin should have been comparable, made with a common purity of silver, any old ruler could have diluted their silver and then stamped them again as pure, making a profit. Ignoring the other issues this brought, it meant that coins were no longer comparable, thus again resembling barter as one argued the true worth of each coin.

So Erberg had wanted a single set of silver coins under the King's control with harsh punishments for any who dared debase them.

With regards to the undesirability of bartering, the full extent of his reasoning went beyond both her ability and her interest. The kind of reasoning that justified itself by pointing at those foreign tribes which had no desire to hoard precious metals. However, she very much had an interest in taking his monetary reforms beyond their compromised implementation and instead to their logical conclusion.

"I still fail to see what benefit this bank will bring the city."

Her eyes held no response, mouth hidden behind her tea cup as she took a sip. Steam steadily rose, thick in the room's chill that only slowly melted to the modest fire. Once she lowered her cup, her lips parted, and her reply thereafter followed.

"Then it is a good thing I have no need to convince Mr Mayor in order to establish it."

Immediately, he tensed up, soon let out an awkward chuckle. "Of course, I don't expect My Lady to indulge me. Such a statement is nothing more than an admission of my own failings."

"It is good to be aware of such things," she said, not entirely lightly, but it lacked intensity with her gaze elsewhere.

He again chuckled, taking a moment to reach up and adjust his cap.

With that addressed, she turned her attention to the other person present, a Sir Matteo. To call him a knight was not particularly correct, landlord a better fit, that he rented out the little plot of farmland he owned and was one who paid money in lieu of service.

However, that rather missed the reason for his presence. "Mr Mayor is here that I may impress on him that he is to fully comply with sir's requests."

The knight chuckled, a certain weight to the action, that, although not a particularly heavy person, his weight preferred to settle on his face and his middling age did not help. Otherwise, he had a neat appearance, fine clothes with a comfortable slackness, and a quiet confidence behind narrow glasses.

"I am sure everyone will cooperate well to not inconvenience My Lady." He spoke in fluent German, what little accent he had as if an intentional flair.

In reply, she softly smiled, only to then shake her head. "It is better to inconvenience me than not. Sir is wise in these matters, and Mr Mayor knows me well, that I am sure neither would bring unimportant matters before me."

He gave a slight bow of his head, acutely aware of her awareness of his talents.

Yes, to establish her bank, she knew of no one better. He had worked closely under a Jewish banking family that had fled from Spain to Italy, with particular responsibility for managing branches in the Empire—and had personally opened a branch in both Amsterdam and Frankfurt. However, recent years had seen Christians find ever more creative ways to justify their usury, that Jews once more found themselves being pushed out of the little work they had been permitted to do.

When the family decided to once more move on, he decided to stay in Frankfurt. For a while, he managed accounts for a few prestigious families, which included making investments and handling loans.

So it was only a matter of time before he encountered her.

She had always known precisely how much money she wanted and knew well the rate of interest others would offer her. Rather than use that to negotiate for a lower rate, she had always negotiated for more money instead. Not once had she been late on a payment—nor had she ever paid early.

A merchant naturally lived or died by their understanding of money. However, neither he nor she were merchants. That they both had this deeper understanding of money thus gave him a certain respect for her, which appeared to be mutual.

If not, she wouldn't have extended an invitation, and he wouldn't have accepted.

She brought her hands together in a gentle clap. "Now then," she said to him, "while we have spoken of some matters before, I thought that, to reach an initial agreement, it would be best to meet in person. That is not to say that these matters are at all sensitive or secretive, but that I think it would be easy to misunderstand certain points."

"Matters of money are certainly prone to misunderstandings," he said, the tone not light, yet his momentary smile and pinch of his eyes conveyed the joke.

Her hands settled on her lap, a momentary smile of her own her reply to that. "I believe that what I should emphasise is that this bank would not seek to make profits. That is not to say that, for example, it cannot charge interest on loans. Rather, I would look at it as if a road. That a road takes money to build and maintain does not necessitate charging a toll for it to be profitable to the city as a whole."

He met her gaze the entire time, only to find it sincere. She had not misspoken when suggesting this a point easily misunderstood. It needed not be said that, as a Christian ruler, she could have hardly written down that she wished to charge higher rates of interest than the Church permitted. He would have understood that she wished to keep a certain deniability about this.

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However, her eyes did not pinch nor her smile quirk, her voice perfectly level, nothing about this a joke to her. Which suddenly made this a rather interesting proposal compared to what he had expected.

"A bank like a road," he said, his amusement plain to hear, "a most curious idea."

"Curious, yet hardly novel. Certain cities in Italy have founded their own banks to consolidate their debts and to handle the issues that stem from having foreign currencies in circulation."

He nodded along, her statement entirely correct, albeit unusual in just how plainly she stated it. "Indeed, they have. Since My Lady is aware, is it that she has a particular need to address?" he asked, his personal interest again grown.

"A particular need? No, I have many needs. Or rather, this is not about what I need and instead is about what sir may offer," she said, her head tilting as she finished that sentence. "It would be helpful to consolidate the city's debts and my personal debts, that is true. It would be helpful to better manage currencies, that the Empire is burdened with its trio and that much trade comes up from Italy."

"Those are certainly matters I believe I may address…" he said.

Though he stopped there, it felt inadequate, her expression taking on an amusement of her own which pulled at him. However, his patience did not break.

So it was that she spoke again. "If I should have another need, one which I mentioned earlier, it is that we should put out of business those usurious money-lenders."

A smile broke through, his eyes pinched. "Of course, if we would offer services for the good of the city, naturally we would offer such rates that few could compete."

Despite the natural confidence with which he spoke, she brushed it aside with a flick of her wrist. "It truly was correct to have this meeting in person. No, sir is not wrong; however, on this matter, sir is wrong. It is natural to think that what I suggest is to offer lower rates on safe loans and other such services. Rather, what I suggest is reasonable rates on all loans."

The implication of that was not lost on him. He drew in a deep breath, then let it out, again pleasantly surprised by the twists of this little conversation. "We would balance out profits with losses."

"Exactly," she said with a smile. "Of course, that is not to say that we would give any beggar off the street a small fortune, yet there may well be some beggars worth a few coins. I believe sir should be able to find the appropriate balance."

He did not think her example of a beggar to be entirely figurative, his own smile returning as he softly said again, "A bank like a road."

Which she heard with a certain satisfaction.

"Those are, in a sense, the spirit with which I would expect the bank run. However, I would have some more immediate and tangible goals. The first is that the bank would manage the city's accounts, which would include accounts for those employees with regular work," she said, returning to a polite smile.

He gave a single nod, already deep in thought. That phrase of hers once more found itself on the tip of his tongue. "So we would have need to handle many small accounts," he said, talking to himself, yet not so rude as to mutter.

"Indeed. If I may, sir should find the city accommodating. There has been an effort to teach the commoners simple literacy and arithmetic, not to say that they would be suitable, but that sir may find from them those with talent who are worth further training. In doing so, the city has also expanded and refined its production of paper and there is a printing press which may provide support.

"However, there is one other consideration I hope sir may take into account."

After regarding her for a moment, he nodded and said, "Pray tell, My Lady."

"The city does also have capable Jews. That is, I am not compelling sir either way. All I ask is for moderation. I have worked towards opening other professions to our Jewish citizens, and I would like for our other citizens to gain experience with accounting. I am sure sir understands these benefits."

What she shared took a long moment to sink in. Sink in it did, though, and he felt a laughter rise in his chest, only for it to fall with his next breath. "Then, would My Lady be amenable to granting a charter for an accounting guild?" he asked.

Her expression soured at that. "If sir may excuse me, I have a certain distaste for guilds, that they seek to drive up prices and resist expansion. While there is a need to ensure accountants are suitably trained, I hope sir will make do with something else. Something like a guild, yet which would lack the monopoly on trade and training that so readily corrupts guilds."

So she still had ways to surprise him. In this regard, though, his conclusion almost wrote itself, such a natural fit with everything else she had brought up so far. A conclusion that rather brought those other pieces firmly together.

The bank would exist to consolidate debts and power, just as a road carried traders and armies.

As if waiting for him to come to that realisation, she spoke up then. "To take a step back, if we wish for people of modest means to find value in the bank, it must cultivate an appropriate impression. Sir spoke of losses, what I would call insurance and investment. That a family should not be ruined over a few coins."

Although similar to before, he understood the nuance she wished to emphasise here. "Of course."

"Of course," she said too with a slight smile. "Which now brings us to the next goal. Sir may inquire of the specifics another time if he is curious; however, for now, let me state that I hope to start raising a million thalers through bonds."

For a moment, he simply continued to look at her, then laughter rose in his chest, this time too grand to be settled by a breath and so it spilled out in chuckles, his hand at least managing to cover his mouth for what good that did. After a few seconds, he swallowed the rest of his laughter and cleared his throat.

"A million thalers," he said, tone perfectly neutral.

She raised her hand. "At least one million in the first year," she said, speaking a touch slower than before. "In total, I expect to raise five million over the next five years."

He simply could not conceive it. While others may have had some notion of the scale of monies, he had worked with rooms full of coins, neatly piled and perfectly counted. At its simplest, a million thalers meant a million ounces of silver. Such a lump of bullion would have not impressed the true extent of the wealth; by his estimation, this pile of stacked bars would make a square with edges two strides across, and then come up to his waist.

Which was ironic since, to other people, it wouldn't seem that much; however, that amount of silver resembled the sort of annual revenue one of the notable Italian cities would bring in.

After a deep breath, he took off his glasses and gave them a polish, then returned them to their place, subtly wiping the corners of his eyes as he did. "Is the debt truly so deep?" he asked.

"No, this is funding for a new project," she said, rolling her wrist.

"For that much, My Lady must be building a second city," he said lightly.

Like earlier, she said nothing, an amused silence which pulled at him, only that his patience had found its match this time.

"Pray tell, what ambitious plan has My Lady?" he quietly asked.

She did not give him an answer, instead brought her cup to her lips only to frown. Without a word, before she had placed it down, her maid was at her side and replaced the drink with a fresh cup of tea, steam rising in twisting coils among the chilly air that still hadn't melted from the fire's gentle warmth.

Once she finished her sip, she placed the cup down. "Lastly, I have what is more a consideration than an explicit goal, yet it is something that should be stated clearly. Sir is aware of my distaste for guilds as they would unfairly raise prices through a monopoly, and it is rather clear to me that landlords, taken together, are no better. With the scale of the approaching project and the continued development of the city, this monopoly on housing will only worsen."

He hid his frustration at her lack of an answer behind a wry smile. Still, he listened, what she had said not particularly novel.

"Thus, I hope that the bank may help dampen this silent crisis. If sir is amenable, I would gladly consult with him for such methods that I, as ruler, may make use of. Of sir, I believe the bank will do well with mortgages—even if there must be some losses now and then so that good families who have fallen on hard times would at least have a home to call their own."

In the silence that followed, he finally took a moment to assay the situation, as it were, which brought this whole meeting into focus. He had expected to find gold, instead found silver. He had expected to find a lady, instead found a ruler.

Nothing about today would have surprised him if he had been meeting with an aspiring mayor of an Italian city. Someone who, on the surface, wished to garner popular support with the tradesmens, yet truly wished to break the guilds' monopolies and undermine the lingering aristocracy.

That sort of thing was important for a mayor with a wealthy family behind him, money only able to take him so far. However, she was not some aspiring mayor, not at all.

Laughter, manic laughter, churned in his chest, yet it didn't show on his face at all. It was common that women handled certain finances among noble marriages, some more than others, so she had hardly been the first woman competent with money that he had met. He had then been careful not to underestimate her as he knew well how meticulous their dealings had been so far.

Yet he had still underestimated her. He should have known from the start; after all, she had extended this invitation to him.

"My wife does complain about being so far from Italy."

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